


Dark By Design

by iwillgodownwiththeseships



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Also Chiyo is a supernatural servant bound to him, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, And it's probably horrible..., But he isn't a vampire, But whatevs., Cannibalism, Cannon & AU Mix, Confusion, Dark Will, Demons and Devils, Fandevils who ship hannigram and love fucking with their minds, Hannibal has some major revelations, Hannibals Becoming, Hannibals Childhood, Hannibals Parents are Vampires-AU, Lithuanian Legends and Mythology, M/M, Manipulation, Mind Games, Mind Palace, My First Work in This Fandom, People Will Die, Pre and post fall, Sorry Not Sorry, This is My Design, and be eaten, and he isn't human either!, but he doesn't really know this either, eventual murder husbands, flash backs, muahahaha, slowish burn, trickery, yay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-02-19 02:19:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13113894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillgodownwiththeseships/pseuds/iwillgodownwiththeseships
Summary: "You're no man, are you?""Both fearless and smart... Wonderful. No, little one, I am no more a man than you are.""If you're not a man, does that mean you are a monster?""Monsters... Men... They are one and the same are they not? Monsters exist within every man, I assure you."While incarcerated, Hannibal experiences a crack within the barriers of his mind palace's darkest corners that send him down a twisted memory lane and questioning his sanity. Some things... are better left in the past. Even monsters have their demons.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I have a lot of ideas for this story and am super happy to finally be emptying my brain with it all, but just because I like something doesn't mean others will, so I want to see if the concept even gets any positive feedback at all. There are so many amazing fics in this fandom already, and I'm definitely not the best writer out there, so if you stumble upon this and like it... please let me know! It will be greatly appreciated and encourage me to keep this story in my head rolling along.

Nearly three years had passed before Hannibal began to question his sanity wile incarcerated at The Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.

It all started when he was first admitted, as nothing more than a splinter in one of the many large doors within Hannibal's mind palace. Sneakily, this splinter grew little by little... week after week and month after month, until what had been stowed away could finally escape it's confinement. For most of his life Hannibal had successfully kept this devilish creature in one of the furthest and darkest away corners of his mind as an attempt to keep his most terrible memories hidden from it's control. Some things... are better left in the past. Even monsters have their demons.

Feeling the chillingly familiar presence after such a long absence came as strong as an assault.

 _"Labas dar kartą._ _Mažyti..."_

No longer was he caged in a room of white. All it took were those four words, _'Hello again. Little one...',_ whispered with a slow hiss in his ear from a haunting voice that hadn't been heard in over thirty years, and suddenly he was transported back to the one place he dared not visit even in memory. Home.

*****

***

*

 _A lone nightingale_ _fills the night with it's steady rhythmic song, drawing the attention of a frail young boy away from a large group of elegantly clad adults that were dancing off in the distance. The night is midsummer, St. John's night, and in celebration a grand party is to last through it's entirety long into the following day. On the furthest reaching edge of faded light from the house is where he stands watching the festivities. His belly is full and he had already charmed everyone in attendance at least once, so he took his leave to spend the remainder of nights reign alone. Taking one step back, pitch black darkness envelopes him and instantly feels his senses come to life with it. Daphne blossoms, different varieties of tree bark, and dew starting to form over the vegetation perfume the air with a much more pleasing aroma than the stink of drunken sweaty guests and spoiling food filling his families Estate, so he lets himself be lured further away into the darkness in favor of nightingales and natures beauty._

_Guided by his ears and nose, he walks far into the thick forest until sight takes back control, suddenly captivated by a bright silver reflection of the moon in a small still pond nearby. There are tall trees around the perimeter and many boulders, glistening stones, and ferns forming a path to the only clearing. It's beautiful. Standing alone in the middle of the forest, unafraid, he walks down the pathway toward the waters edge. The water is so still that it looks made of glass, and he imagines jumping into it, curious what would happen. Would he come out onto the other side where another world lay in wait?_

_Sudden movement catches his eye. Dozens of snails are on the stones, looking like barnacles in the dark with moonlight reflecting lightly off their shells. There is one snail larger than the others, the only one moving. This larger snail moves quicker than the normally associated speed, motivated by something, then reveals it's aim by attacking one of the others and killing it._

_"The cannibal snail. Beautiful, isn't it?"_

_Startled, the boy jumps in surprise by the strange voice breaking nights silence so unexpectedly. Fear would be appropriate in his circumstances, but that is not something this boy has ever known. Intrigued, the boy searches for the man who spoke but sees only the snails and pool the same as before._

_"Show yourself, stranger."_

_"My my... What an interesting little thing you are. Why... You're not afraid of me at all, are you."_

_Something brushes past his side but this time he is not startled, now aware he is no longer alone. Standing his ground, he turns to face the man but only sees darkness. The moon would have reflected upon anyone with pale skin enough to reveal another person, so perhaps it's not a who, but a what._

_"You're no man, are you?"_

_"Both fearless and smart... Wonderful. No, little one, I am no more a man than you are."_

_"If you're not a man, does that mean you are a monster?"_

_"Monsters... Men... They are one and the same are they not? Monsters exist within every man, I assure you."_

_Still standing firm, the boys only reply is a curious tilt of his head as he considers the peculiar statement._

_"Have you been summoned here for the midsummer celebration?"_

_"No. Aside from midsummer being meaningless to me, I cannot be controlled in such a manner on any night."_

_This pleases the boy; knowing he was not alone in his opinion of the rather frivolous event. For the sake of his reputation and to please and honor his family, appearances were made and maintained, but his ambition was hollow beyond such niceties. Every year it was the same... Ungrateful and thankless villagers came to his Estate and made a mess of his families property, got drunk and engorged themselves on every hospitality offered, then ran around the forest looking for some magical fern and danced around a huge fire like the heathens they were. Fools. Rude and sloppy fools. A fat pig was slaughtered for the whole lot of them at what he considered to be an act of pointless charity, and they wasted no time devouring it. If he hadn't eaten prior, it would have been impossible to do so after seeing such behavior. They were no better than the swine they feasted on._

_"This night, the title of it at least, is also meaningless to me."_

_Nothing was said in return so their conversation is redirected in search of more answers._

_"Do you have a name? What may I call you?"_

_"You may call me... friend."_

_"I don't have any friends."_

_"Yes... adored you are. Yet in crowds of people who love you, flock to you... you're alone."_

_His_ _eyes grow wide in shock to hear such intimate understanding shared so confidently. Alone... yes, it was the truth. He was well loved by all who knew him. Whatever his heart desired was granted... but friends? The concept was intriguing, but never before had anyone inspired such a relationship with his true self. His sister Mischa was the closest thing he had to a friend, but she was too young to have any meaningful conversations. There were plenty of children from the village that considered him their friend, and he was nice to them, of course, but he only acted how he knew one was expected to and should act around others. Mother and Father held manners in very high regard, and it was something that he noticed made life easier to go through if properly abided by. He yearned for the compatibility of another like himself to share in understanding._

_"Nobody really sees you, do they. Knows you. You won't let them. Not even your parents."_

_"No."_

_Again, it was as if his mind was being read like a simple novel. This being, be it malevolent or benevolent in nature, imaginary or real, was able to truly understand him... and this makes the invitation very tempting._

_"And is that something that you would like? To be seen?"_

_"It is."_

_The presence was now right in front of him. There was no shape or solidity in the presence, but it was felt none the less. Not hot or cold, but with a vibrant energy. Powerful._

_"I see you, little one. Let me, and you shall be known."_

_"If I may ask, are you... real?"_

_"Do you think I am?"_

_"Well, yes..."_

_"Then I am."_

_Could this being be real? Or had his imagination made the only version of a friend that was possible for one such as himself? These thoughts were perhaps too great of a curiosity to be solved right then, but regardless of the answer, he decides to allow such an interesting possibility of friendship the chance. Not without a warning though. He refused to be seen as a fool or some ignorant child._

_"Why does one such as yourself wish to know someone like me? For what benefit? I shall not be tricked or betrayed."_

_Dark mischievous laughter rumbles out of the shadow and echoes all around them._

_"No, I would not think such a thing possible. Knowledge and wisdom should be shared, and I am lonely without any worthy contenders to impart such gifts. But there is something... special about you."_

_"Then I am to be your pupil?"_

_"Nothing so formal. Like I said, you may call me friend."_

_"Alright. Friend."_

_Friend. His first friend. How appropriate for it to be with darkness._

*

***

*****

Darkness changed back into light, white walls once more enclosed Hannibal in his cell. Never before had the color white been so welcome, it was odd to feel so disoriented and out of control. The past was back where it was supposed to be upon returning to the present, but Hannibal didn't return alone.

_"Don't tell me you've forgotten about me, Mažyti..."_

Hannibal made no reply to the voice. Calming himself from the onslaught, instead he focused his attention on a much more practical train of thought; planning the best way to fulfil his promise to Dr. Bloom. Surely this was all Alana's newest experimental torment in an attempt to turn him against himself, and he wouldn't let her win. 

Alana may have been playing nice, indulging his good taste with finer privilages than was customary for prolific serial killers, but he knew she was terrified of him and his promise in waiting. Terrified enough to make sure he couldn't keep such a promise by whatever means possible. As if madness would be enough to prevent such tasks from completion...

A messy cabal had been formed between her, Dr. Chilton, and Jack to keep his life from the needle as means of resource and study. Now they wanted to control him, but this manipulation would prove to be futile. His Imagination and memory were so vast, that if the need arose, he could escape somewhere to let the effects wear off of whatever it was currently inebriating his mind. Now at least he knew what to anticipate for a warning if there was a next time. Or at least that's what he tried to reassure himself by thinking, just as the old voice spoke up again.

_"Remember all the fun we used to have? The fern blossom you found that night we first met was revealed by me, don't you remember? Your mother was so proud you were the one to find it. It was lovely enough, but didn't seem to bring you any luck in the end now, did it..."_

A sigh escapes his lips, and his eyes close as he flees to the center of his mind palace where tranquility and peace always wait to welcome him. This has been turning into a near daily escape as of late, and soon his white starchy uniform is replaced with a fine suit, and The Norman Chapel in Palermo, in all of it's severe and timeless beauty, surrounds him with angelic choral singing and ambient rays of sunlight. Relaxation and calm wash over all of the anxiety seeing childhood memories had brought forth as he walks down the narrow isle to sit in his favorite little wooden chair. Italy had always been such a paramount landmark in his life, where he could mature and transform his genesis into something remarkable. Italy was perfectly light and dark. Life and carnage. Divine and Damned. Anonymity and legend.

Relaxation and calm soon fade when something flickers into view before the stairs leading to the altar, for the briefest of seconds; an image, familiar but different than in memory.

Suddenly the choral singing shifts to a grim minor key that rings in an unnatural tone as dark clouds move in to block the sunlight.

Hannibal tenses. This was... a first. Never before had his control been challenged so strongly. Palermo was one of his most sacred and faithful sanctuaries, and darkness penetrating it against his own volition was violating in ways he hadn't thought possible. Alana will pay for this breach.

_"Still not afraid, are you?"_

No answer. Hannibal will not give in.

_"You can close your eyes, but I know you still feel my presence. Sight has always been one of the weaker senses. Only in darkness can we really see."_

At this Hannibal's eyes open, and what he sees in the now dark and gloomy cathedral sends shivers down his spine, but his demeanor still stays in tact.

Where a choir boy stood over the engraved skull shining a light over the grim reminder of mortality, now stands a tripod looming in his place holding an inky black replica of his bloody origami heart left for Will to find so many years ago. The heart is beating in tandem with Hannibal's own.

_"This is what your heart really looks like you know."_

Each pulse from the oozing black mass of limbs are a loud drumming noise. The pace is getting faster with Hannibal's tension growing as he feels control slipping away until it suddenly stops beating, and starts moving. All of the threads are broken as the legs and arms rip themselves free from the folds and launch off of the tripod they're on to land on all fours on the floor next to Hannibal. Where the hands, feet, and head had been chopped off now sprout new, more sinister versions. Once fully formed, the head that now bears two grand antlers just as black as its lanky towering body looks up to lock eyes with Hannibal before slowly rising with the rest of it to stand and look down on him. 

The image is different from this beings past formless shadow of a representation but Hannibal finds it much more fitting. A windigo is what it seems to have evolved into. Hannibal finds it almost poetic, but will not indulge the beast with any compliments or conversation.

_"Ah, yes. The silent treatment... How mundane. Is that any way to treat an old friend? Tell me, Mažyti, why is it you have given up...? This captivity that you volunteered for... I don't understand."_

No answer. Hannibal's control might be shaken, but he is nothing if not resilient. He is still just sitting down looking bored and uninterested while silently watching. This imaginary friend of a devil from his childhood would hold no sway over his will power. He is not real. Only a powerful memory taking control in a temporarily compromised mental state. Hannibal reminds himself that his mind is full of numerous things even more insidious than this creature that could be tormenting him in this state of mind, and counts it a small blessing that this old 'friend' doesn't seem to be nearly as wicked as it ought to be. He can't help but feel curious as to why it is this manifestation which broke free.

_"There is another. He has real promise to become something great. You could say that he was inspired by you; earths closest thing to Lucifer himself in his eyes. Let's just hope that he is smarter in the end than you were."_

This new killer in the spotlight is of interest, "The Tooth Fairy," but all he gives in acknowledgement is a subtle smirk at the reference to Lucifer, and remains unconversational. 

Now annoyed and irritated with the lack of attention,  the hellish wendigo starts to pace up and down the isle while shooting him the occasional scowl. Hannibal simply maintains eye contact with his legs crossed and shoulders back, hands resting on his knee. He might as well be back in his psyciatry office observing a mad patients venting tantrum.

_"What if I tell you what your beloved is up to, hmm? Yes you'd like that wouldn't you. You... So foolishly giving your heart away as if anyone would ever want the hideous thing. Love is not necessary. Or do you need a reminder of how it feels to loose a loved one? Maybe you do. Then you would forget this impossible path your walking so blindly. Everyone you love will die eventually."_

The word beloved causes a slight rift of his demeanor, having gone so long without hearing any news, but is immediately corrected. Hannibal had his sources, sure, and knew the general summary of his Will's status... but there was so much more he craved to know. It had been too long. Hope should have already been smothered years ago, but Hannibal still tended to the lingering flame of it in spite of doubt. The image in his mind of how great Will's raw potential to become something truly remarkable was always enough before and it was still enough now to motivate him past trialing times. He knew his patience would one day be rewarded. Hopefully sooner rather than later. 

As tempting as it may be, Hannibal ignores the offer. After all, this was only an offer from a figment of his memories and imagination anyways, so logically, there was nothing it could share that would be of real news to him.

_"I see. You have forgotten then. My power is false now, is it? Soon you shall see."_

Palermo vanishes, and Hannibal is brought out of his mind and back into his white walled reality. This time though, he returns alone. 

Hannibal releases a long breath he'd been keeping in, and is relieved to have control of his mind back in order. No more pills would be allowed, he would make sure of it. 

Then as if on cue, telltale taps of stilettoes sound through the hallway alerting the arrival of Alana Bloom. Surely she was here to check his mental status after her experiment, and he wouldn't be giving her any gratification or proof of success in the slightest. 

"Hello Alana. That wine smells lovely. Another one of mine, a Domaine Ramonet Montrachet Grand Cru? A beautiful Chardonnay. You and Jack now have a grand collection, I'm sure. No matter. They are easy enough to acquire with proper resources and hardly the most extravagant of choices."

To this Alana smiles, amused as ever with Hannibal's unwavering confidence and superiority despite him being at _her_ mercy now, under _her_ control. It didn't seem to matter how compromising or hopeless his circumstances were... Branded, hog tied, and naked waiting to be eaten by past victims, or her very own prisoner... Hannibal Lecter always has this air about him like everything is going exactly how he expected, planned even, no matter how little it benefited his best interest. Alana wouldn't admit it, but even though she had the only keys to his freedom, he scared her enough to wonder if he even needed the keys at all. If it was just some game, waiting for the next move on some grand chess board to be played.  

"A luxury you won't be able to _aquire,_ ever again. Hello Hannibal."

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I just wanted to let you know that your piece for The American Journal of Psychiatry will be published tomorrow."

"And what do you think of it?"

"It's brilliant, of course. Frederick will be ruined, as I'm sure you're well aware. Still trying to maintain your title? Proving you're caged but not muzzled?"

"Would you feel more comfortable if I was muzzled, Alana? Your very own pet hellhound?"

"I feel plenty comfortable with you just as you are." 

Hannibal says nothing further as a the second shiver of the night runs down his spine. All of a sudden the inside of his glass wall is completely covered in snails and it nearly startles him enough to leap back in shock, but Alana is right in front of him on the opposite side so he tries his best to remain calm. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he reminds himself that this is all just still effects from whatever Alana is up to, and that when he opens his eyes it will all be back to normal. 

The snails remain. They look so real, Hannibal would have reached out and grabbed one had he not been in the presence of company. He wonders for a moment if this is how Will felt when he had been hallucinating. Still determined to rise above whatever was attacking his mind, nothing but complete composure, at least externally, is shown.

"I will see to it that you receive a copy of the publication. Is there... Anything else you require?"

"There is one thing, thank you. About the pills you gave me... Appearances have been made, and you yourself said we both know I'm not insane... And everyone at The American Journal of Psychiatry seems to agree... Therefore, I wish to inform you that I will not be taking any more pills."

An argument or surprise was expected of her in reply to his decree, but nothing of the sort happens. 

"Alright, that's fair enough. They were only placebo pills anyway, you knew that. The same ones as the last three years. Vitamins were recently added just for your general healths sake... But I suppose since you're officially insane now, free from the needle, we can drop the apparences." 

 _Vitamins_... This cannot be. Begrudgingly, there was no lie or negotiation made to verify his prediction. Hannibal expected to hear fear in her at the mention of the pills, but none came. She agreed without any qualm or hesitation. 

The cliché 'the walls are closing in' suddenly feels very fitting for the first time in his life. What has caused this breach if not Alana? Hannibal was not accustomed to uncertainty or fond of surprises. 

Alana politely makes her leave, and Hannibal is left alone. Really alone this time, aside from the snails that he desperately tries in vain to make disappear. No more voice... Just him and his own crumbling sanity. 

Walking over to his desk, he sits down and tries to clear his mind by sketching his visions and thoughts out. After sketching a copy of the dark windigo he'd seen, he feels much more soothed and himself. Looking up from his paper, Hannibal is relieved to see a normal cell without any more troubling hallucinations obstructing his view. 

Hannibal decides that perhaps it's best if he leaves this hospital before it actually starts to suit his mental state, but in order to do that he first needs to write some letters and set his final chess pieces into position. 

Fresh air, sunlight, and his beloved would soon be his... Sane or not.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is Will centric, with more development and story building.

Will had received many letters from Hannibal, but not once had he ever replied. No phone calls. No visits. Nothing. 

It was an act of rebellion as much as it was a punishment for both himself and Hannibal because of what they almost became, and what he knew but tried to ignore was still possible. 

Will was tired of being influenced and manipulated by others. After Jack and Hannibal were out of his life, it gave him a chance to take back control and do what he wanted on his own terms. 

At least this is what he thought would happen.

No matter how much he wanted to feel liberated and free after Hannibal's incarceration, regret and resentment took over like a plague.

If it wasn't for the silver lining he'd found in Molly and Walter, the weight and burden of it all would have surely consumed him. Or maybe it still was consuming him... but at least much slower with them being such bright lights against his darkness.

For a long time Will was furious with Hannibal for having turned himself in, but now he didn't know which one of them he was more mad at, and there was plenty enough to be mad at without needing to blame anyone for it. There were still so many questions and thoughts he had about him and Hannibal's cataclysmic anomaly of a relationship, but these would never be confessed to anyone.

No more therapists have been given access to his inner workings, and he vowed to keep it that way. 

After almost three years of no communication, fear is what kept him away now.

Even as curious and interested as he secretly was, seeing Hannibal would stir up too many emotions and memories, and he was afraid of the effect it would have on him. This new persona he had created, no matter how little it was deserved or how phony it was, would be preserved for as long as possible.

Will convinced himself that dogs and family were plenty enough to move on from his past, and things seemed to get better.

No more crime scenes, no more bloody photos, no more monster hunts. Molly and Walter were all he had anymore after wiping his hands clean of the FBI and his past.

It was all he'd ever dreamed of; the nice house in the woods, a perfect and healthy relationship with a son, dogs, and his own private stream full of fish to share with them. Most people would give anything to have such a life. It was great... and he was thankful and happy, but in the back of his mind, no matter how much he wished it wasn't  true, there was always something that felt wrong about it.

There was an itch that Will had, and no matter how hard he ignored it... he knew one day relief would be offered and he wouldn't be able to resist it any longer.

His life had turned into a pretty red apple with a worm slowly tearing it apart from the inside out, and he was the worm. There was only a matter of time before it was all destroyed. He hated himself for it, and hated Hannibal for it too, so the inevitable was fought against with everything he had. 

Alana was too busy and hadn't even once tried to reach out since his leave, and even Jack stayed away now, only calling on some holidays for brief talks.

It was all for the best. He understood. If there was anyone who had the right idea of how he felt, it was Jack.

Ever since his confession in Wolftrap, where for one moment he was the most honest he'd ever been with himself or anyone else about how he felt, Jack had never looked at him the same. He knew the truth would break their friendship, but it had to be said regardless. The words were freeing.

 _'I_ _told him to leave because I wanted him to run... Because-Because he was my friend, and because I wanted to run away with him...'_

Will didn't regret calling Hannibal that night to warn him, he regretted not confessing earlier at any of the many opportunities he'd been given and running away with him and Abigail. A dark fairy tale ending that should have been. The three of them reunited and lethal to anyone in the world who dare challenge it. Invincible. But thanks to Jack... _always Jack..._ his fantasy had been foiled.

It was a pattern that took too late to see.

If he could rewind time, Will had no doubt where his allegiance would have been. 

Its funny how much your subconscious negotiations can alter the way past memories are looked at. How time can either heal wounds, or fester them into something truly horrible. 

Will's resilience was strong, but over time subtle changes began to win over.

Molly thought his nightmares had gone away over the past couple of years due to her presence, but that was only because they weren't nightmares anymore. As a way to maintain his sanity, a small deal was made with himself just so that he could stop fighting it all, if only for a little while. As long as the daylight remained untainted by his past, nights could be claimed by it. It seemed simple enough of a shift. Innocent even. And it felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from him as soon as it happened. Like a new solid door had been built in his mind to block out all troubling thoughts, the only key code to unlock it, the cover of nightfall.

Only in sleep were his dark secrets and fantasies allowed to be embraced. There, they flourished.

Black windigos and stags... Hannibal and Abigail... blood, death, and darkness... Every night like clockwork until daylight hours returned and such thoughts and memories were once again banished. 

For almost three years it had maintained a level of peace and sanity, but as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end.

Last night an unusually interesting dream played through his mind that would later be understood as an omen.

For once the windigo wasn't Hannibal, but another separate entity, and the stag was teaming up with it to attack him while Will watched from a distance. It was night and the moonlight had a slight eerie red tinge to it. The attack didn't make him feel sad or happy, just neutral and observant as the stag and the windigo savagely tore off his skin. Hannibal's back was turned to him, but he seemed completely calm and wasn't fighting back at all. Skin fell all around him, easily shedding off as if it were pieces of clothing only to reveal another layer hidden underneath. Once it was all removed the stag and windigo stepped back to look at their finished project with admiration. Slowly, he turns around to face Will, standing naked and bloody in his new skin looking almost the same as before, except for a much more sinister expression than usual and a pair of bright red eyes staring back at him.

It was dark and beautiful and raw, and the closest to seeing what the real Hannibal looked like that he'd ever seen.

Will woke up from his dream and was thankful but surprised he wasn't hard from it. 

The house was quieter than normal with Walter away at his grandparents house for the weekend and he didn't want to waste it on anything stressful and unnecessary, so he didn't spend any time concerning himself with his dream.

After his morning shower was finished and all nighttime thoughts were banished once more, Will gathered up all of his dogs and opened the front door so they could all go outside.

Mornings were his favorite part of the day, where the only things to focus on were the dogs running around and whatever nature had to offer him while he relaxed on the porch. There was a fresh sheet of snow on the ground, and it made him feel safe and calm. 

Molly came out shortly after like she usually did and brought him a cup of coffee, the newspaper, and a stack of mail. Just from looking at the stack for a brief moment, Will knew their contents and sighed at the thought of it. Molly had seemed unusually hesitant to deliver him the mail, and he knew right away that it was all due to the envelope addressed to him on the very bottom of the stack, hidden under all of the bills and advertisements, with an all too familiar script written with the eloquence unique to only one person. She'd placed it there to save him the worst for last, so he humored her and waited to open it. 

It was the first letter in nearly four months, and like each one before it, even more bittersweet than the last.

Molly left him alone to read through the mail after giving a soft good morning kiss. Once she was back in the house he went to sit down and read through it all starting with the newspaper.

Not surprisingly, the headline was all about a new murder at the hands of the crime worlds newest star, "The Tooth Fairy." Another family dead and gone. He did himself a favor and didn't read the entire article to avoid knowing too much about this new killer, and thought to himself that he should probably treat his new letter from Hannibal the same, but knew it was hopeless to resist the only source of news from his old friend that was permitted. 

All the other envelopes had been dealt with, so after a deep breath, the envelope that looked like it should have instead been delivered to the white house was carefully opened.

Will had received many letters from Hannibal, but never one like this. 

There were three parts to the letter, two were the written letter, and the other was something that sent Will's entire body ice cold and still.

Never before had anyone ever known the extent of his hallucinations. Will had made sure that nobody ever knew of his windigo or stag, yet here, right in front of him, was an exact depiction of his most nightmarish figment. 

It took a long time before Will put down the drawing, but once he did, he read through the letter and felt even more confused after. Essentially it was just an oddly courteous warning to ignore Jack when he came seeking the return of his dusty tea cup.

He wasn't too surprised that Jack would be coming for him with all of the "Tooth Fairy" publicity going on, but his days of serving Jack and the FBI were long over. If anything, he needed to visit Hannibal to get answers on how and why he knew of things that should be impossible, even for him.

Looking at the drawing again, Will tried to imagine the possibility that it was just a coincidentally uncanny depiction of a windigo from myth as some darkly humored reference to his cannibalistic reputation... but it was far too detailed of a likeness to suffice as an explanation. Whether he liked it or not, they had blurred along with their mind palaces long ago, but even still... he was sure this had been kept secret. Had he revealed this to Hannibal while under some kind of hypnosis test? There had to be an answer. Will knew he wouldn't be able to think straight until this was figured out and cursed Hannibal for his ability to effect him so strongly even after such a long absence.

Winston had materialized next to him sometime while he was staring in disbelief at the drawing, probably out of instinct when his heartrate surely reflected his reaction, and he was grateful for the company. But at the sound of tires rolling down his driveway, any wish for company was long gone. Jack Crawford was here, just as Hannibal predicted. _Speak of the devil..._

Will hid the drawing and letter under the newspaper but left the envelope out. It seemed fitting to lay the letter next to the Tooth Fairy article for Jack to see.

Jacks car pulled up to the front of the house and he got out while Will remained seated with his arms crossed. He knew the reason for his unannounced visit and was not going to give any indication that it was welcomed. 

"Long time no see!" Jack was undeterred from Will's unfriendly demeanor and walked up all smiles and cheer. 

Still adorning the usual fedora and long wool trench coat combo with his hands in pockets, darting eyes, and friendly smile, he walks up the porch steps to stand next to Will who is still sitting down. It doesn't take Jack long to see the letter next to the article, and at that, eye contact is initiated with a more serious expression.

"I see you've got the warning then. And... are also aware of our new killer as well. Perfect."

"Have a seat. I'll get coffee."

Motioning to the open seat next to him, he stands up and walks over to the door to go inside and get them both coffee.

As soon as the door closed behind him he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It seemed like his vow to not speak or think of Hannibal during the day was turning out to be futile. Molly was waiting by the window for him to fill her in, which he immediately did. She liked the situation just as much as he did, and scowled and stuck her tongue out at the image of Jacks head visible from the window. He kissed her before returning with the coffee and felt slightly better knowing at least they were on the same page. 

Will hands Jack his coffee but doesn't sit next to him. He just stands, leaning against the porches railing while holding his steaming cup of coffee.

"Don't want to talk inside?" 

No reply is spoken, he only remains noticeably unpleased and shakes his head to Jack and his friendly façade. The façade doesn't last much longer after this, and finally they are having an honest conversation.

"Oh, you don't want to _let_ me inside. Well I've come too far to let the cold stop me, Will." 

Jack gives him a look that he imagined a parent giving a disobedient child, and it makes him laugh.

In the past he might have been a superior with a power over him, but now he was nothing more than an old friend and link to too many bad memories. Will tries to think about why they were ever friends in the first place, and determines it was only ever a result of mutual respect and their work. It wouldn't happen again. Not now that Will finally understood how their entire relationship was just about control and manipulation. Jack never really cared for him... he was all too happy to break and torment him no matter how many people warned against it.

"Common sense couldn't stop you, why should the cold."

"Oh come on, Will... It's been a nightmare, as you seem to be well aware of. We need you to come back for this case. Just until we catch the bastard."

 _'Just until we catch the bastard...'_ _Well how many more 'bastards' are there going to be?_ He thinks as another sardonic laugh escapes his pursed lips.

"I can't. You know I can't." He replies firmly, and hopes that Jack really is uncomfortable sitting out in the cold. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would leave for good this time. But Will had never considered himself to be very lucky.

"I _know..._ that you will do the right thing."

At this, Will rolls his eyes.

Jack always had a funny idea of what right and wrong was... it seemed like as long as whatever suited his own personal benefit and agenda was right, and everything else was wrong. _Screw everyone elses advice or beliefs... Jack knew what was best..._

"I'm not here to be summoned whenever shit hits the fan, Jack. It's been too long. I'm _different_ now, and I want to _keep_ it that way. I can't possibly be your only option."

"You were never my only option. You are my best option, the same as before. You have a nearly perfect record for catching these monsters... and as much as we both know you don't want to come back, I have to think of what's best for the bigger picture."

Will can feel the desperation coming from Jack and has to close his eyes and try and focus on his own reasoning and feelings, and not let Jack's overpower him. _How was it always so easy for Jack to manipulate me into doing his bidding? Was I really so weak before?_ he thinks and internally curses himself for ever being so easily swayed.

Again he thinks the dangerous thought of how different his life would be if he had chosen the right side that night, and imagines a new scenario in which he finally succeeds in having the upper hand, where the wool is rightfully pulled over Jacks eyes and he is finally in control. If there was anyone who needed to be put in his place, he believed it was Jack Crawford.

The temptation and pull towards finally facing his demons, to seeing Hannibal again, was stronger than it ever had been. His resistance was reaching it's end. But if he was going to return to harms way, break all of his rules and reunite with his very own devil, it would be on his terms and no one elses. 

"I have a _family_ now. I have my own _'bigger picture'_ to think of... and if I came back, we _both_ know I wouldn't return the same. This was never a good idea for me. Not since that first case."

Will pauses to take a deep breath and put down his coffee to cross his arms. No more submitting. This is his house, and he will remain in charge. Based on Jacks challenging glare back at him, he knows that he wished to be in his place, standing over him instead.

"But you knew that then, and you know it now. It's never mattered to you before though, so I don't expect it will now."

Now Jack looks truly irritated.

"You having a family now is _precisely_ the reason I figured this particular case would have been of personal importance to you! Don't you want to help save the future families? Think of Molly and Walter. We don't know how many more Molly's or Walter's there are going to be... but I can _assure_ you he is only just beginning. We think he kills in cycle of the full moon, so there is still a little time left. Please, Will..."

Of course Will had thought about the gravity of this killers targets... had imagined families just like his own, or his own directly, being in similar situations. Early on in his relationship, both Molly and Walter had been taught how to handle themselves if they were ever in trouble without him there. Someone with as intimate knowledge of killers capabilities as him would have been a fool not to. It didn't take much training with Molly being such a strong and capable woman. He was already angry, and it would all too easy to further their argument, but Will was ready for Jack to leave so he decides to try and change the topic and bring things to a close.

After letting out a long sigh and trying to rub the anxiety away from his face, as if it were possible, he brakes his rule and brings up the only other recommendation he could think capable of such a case. 

"And what about Hannibal? We both know he's more than qualified for the job."

Upon hearing Will bring up Hannibal, Jack looks over to him curiously. He'd been avoiding the topic on purpose to not upset him anymore than was necessary. 

"We've been talking to him, and he _is_ answering questions... but he's holding out on us."

Will can't help but smirk, because _of course he is..._

"Hm. Sounds about right. It's all probably _far_ too entertaining for him."

Jack is intrigued by Will's reaction so he tries to see where it goes and keeps up the topic. This was the first time in years that they had talked about him.

"As stubborn and arrogant as ever. He was just officially declared insane, so the death penalty isn't a threat anymore... and what is the first thing he does? Write a piece for The American Journal of Psychiatry completely rebutting Chilton's book about him being insane. It's already very highly regarded. Chilton is devastated and ruined, but from the sounds of it Alana and I won't be thrown under the bus with him." 

Will is now smiling, and kind of hates himself for it, but it was just such a _Hannibal_ thing for him to have done that he can't help the reaction. He tells himself that he most certainly _did not miss him..._ Because sometimes it was safer to lie to yourself than be tormented by the truth. Even as adverse as the topic is from his personal rules, he decides that it is much more favorable to the other option and brings up the letter out of curiosity. He didn't want to seem too interested, but couldn't ignore the tempting opportunity. This was the first drawing sent to him, surely Jack had some peculiar thoughts on it too.

"This letter was different than the others."

Jack merely nods in agreement, so he goes further to ask his opinion. _Jack always loved sharing his opinions, after all..._

"You saw it, what was your take? Were you surprised he told me to stay away?"

"I think... it was most likely just an attempt to reestablish some connection between you two in a mutual annoyance for my _'meddling in your life'_ , as I'm sure you refer to it, because he figures you _will_ listen to me, and wants your favor with him if at all possible... in the off chance that you see each other again."

Bothered by the reply for more than one reason, Will lifts the newspaper to see the drawing again but it is no longer there. 

"The drawing, did you take it?"

He can feel his heartrate speeding back up. It was right there, only a moment ago, and none of the other papers that with it were missing or had been moved.

"What drawing? I don't know what you're talking about..."

Frantically looking around everywhere for the drawing, the hairs on his arms and back of neck stand straight up and he freezes as he looks up to see a woman standing off in the distance next to a stag.

Hallucinations had not happened during daylight hours for some time, so he starts panicking. The woman is wearing a long green coat with black hair, staring right at him while holding a rifle with one hand, and petting the large elk's neck with the other. Will can't believe it, but she looks just like Chiyo. He knows Jack is looking at him as if he was a crazy person, but can't take his eyes away from the vision. 

"Will? What's wrong?"

The woman lifts her hand from the stags neck and reaches into her pocket to pull out a folded piece of paper. Will can feel sweat running down his face, and knows he will have to change his shirt. She unfolds the paper and even though he can't see exactly what it is from so far away, he immediately knows that it's Hannibal's drawing. _Was the drawing a hallucination all along? Did the dream and Tooth Fairy trigger his hallucinations to return?_ Will tries to calm himself by trying to find logic in his situation with these thoughts.

He is about to look away, but then the woman's gun is raised and she shoots. 

One moment Will was standing on his front porch, and the next he was waking up on his couch with a massive headache. Molly was next to him and smiles warmly when he looks at her.

"Hey there... How do you feel?"

"Been better. What happened?"

His head feels like it had just been shot, and then the vision from earlier comes rushing back to him.  It was so different from any other hallucination he'd ever had, and this only made him want to talk to Hannibal more. He told himself that it was for confrontational reasons, and it was slightly true, but he also knew a deeper reason clawing it's way out from his very core was right there along with it.

He could feel the itch nagging him, pleading with him to just go and get it all over with.

Then he sees Molly's expression and guilt takes over.

"You... kinda fainted..."

She is softly stroking his forehead, and is still smiling but looks concerned. Her eyes full of nothing but pure love and devotion. He knew that she would love him even if he was declared insane, and it both filled his heart and broke it. If only she really knew... really saw him for what he was... she would have rightfully run away screaming the first moment they met.

"Fainted. Great."

Will laughs, trying to comfort her by smiling as he raises himself up, but the smile only lasts until he looks over to see that Jack was still there. He's dressed to leave though, which is a relief. 

"I guess this is probably my fault... sorry to bring all of this on you, Will. Give it a day or two, then I hope to see you." He says on his way to the door before bringing his attention to Molly with a much nicer expression and smiles.

"Molly, it was a pleasure as always. Thank you."

Will lets out a deep breath once Jack finally leaves. 

"So you two had plenty of time to talk then..."

"We did."

Her expression tells it all. She was no longer on his side. 

"Jack has a way with words doesn't he. What did he do, show you photos of the families that were killed?"

Her sad frown is enough proof and Will can feel his blood boiling at the thought of Jack's ceaseless manipulations.

He would do it, he would go back to the FBI... but this time it would be different. Jack would think he was going as a good Samaritan to fight the good fight, his loyal errand boy returned and ready to serve, but this time he would be the one getting answers and would take matters into his own hands however he saw fit.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Molly. If you want me to go... I'll go. As much as I don't want to... It's the right thing."

There is still a great deal of internal conflict, but it really is the right thing to do... in more than one way. Molly seems very pleased, she nods her head in agreement, and her warm smile makes any worry flee his mind. Reaching out she grabs his hands and helps to pull him up with her, then leads them both upstairs.

"Come on, lets go take advantage of this big empty house... At least we have a weekend to spend alone before you go be a hotshot hero again."

For a moment Will let himself hope that he would be strong enough to fight the darkness, fight the future he both feared and ached for, and let the brightness of her light wash over him enough so that it found a home within him too... But Will was no fool, and so he settled with the time he was given to share with her. 

At least for one more weekend, night would remain his only dark place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to anyone who read it. I really appreciate any interest or support. Hope you like it so far! <3 My plan is to roughly stick to the way things happened (very roughly, with big twists coming up) in the end of season 3 with Francis and the fall, then use all my additions along the way to launch my own version of a supernatural season 4 murder husbands weird and bloody adventure!
> 
> I have three other fics all in completely different fandoms that I'm also working on, so this one wont be super quick with updates, but I will at least update this fic once or twice a month. Maybe more lol who knows.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm no expert when it comes to Lithuanian culture, language, or history... but have done a lot of research on mythology and legends, so I hope that if anyone reads this and _is_ familiar with the real Lithuania, the bits and pieces I chose to use in my fic does at least some justice to the truth. Translations are tricky, so if anyone can fix errors, you're welcome to do so!!  
>     
> Thank you so much to anyone who took the time to read this! Again, any feedback is greatly appreciated. (The Hannigram fandom is a _bit_ more intimidating to be diving into than others lol)


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